


Storm

by sugarandspace



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Magnus Bane, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Magnus Bane, Established Relationship, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 09:45:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarandspace/pseuds/sugarandspace
Summary: Magnus feels angry.Not the kind of angry that will pass with a bottle of whiskey and a relaxing bath. No, it’s the kind of anger that stems from hurt feelings and pride, spreading from his heart onwards until he can feel it crackle as red sparks on the tips of his fingers.It’s the kind of anger that calls for actions fitting for his name.He needs a release.





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I almost snapped at work today so I decided to vent by writing some angry Magnus.

Magnus feels angry.

Not the kind of angry that will pass with a bottle of whiskey and a relaxing bath. No, it’s the kind of anger that stems from hurt feelings and pride, spreading from his heart onwards until he can feel it crackle as red sparks on the tips of his fingers.

It’s the kind of anger that calls for actions fitting for his name. 

Mostly, it’s anger towards himself and what he’s done.  

He needs to let it out, can’t let it simmer under the surface for longer for fear of an uncontrolled outburst. He can’t go home, Alexander will be there. The last thing he needs is casualties undeserving of his anger.

He needs a release. 

His brisk steps take him to an alley, a wave of his hand creating a portal out of there.

Away, to a place where he can let go.

He lands on top of the highest point of an island, remote and surrounded by seemingly unending amount of ocean blue. A safe place, with no soul in sight.

He wonders where to start.

The anger is still burning inside, and the ball of magic he sends towards the trees near the shoreline is like letting it take a physical form, the heat of it setting the trees on fire.

But it’s not enough, the black smoke barely making his eyes sting. Golden eyes, eyes of a demon and the powerful being he is. 

He’s Magnus Bane, they might have taken the title of The High Warlock of Brooklyn from him, but he’s still Magnus, still the son of Asmodeus - a title he doesn’t like to shout from the rooftops, but one that speaks of his strength and abilities. He’s the most powerful warlock in Northern America, the title belongs to him.

Not Lorenzo Rey. 

Another ball of magic flies towards the ground, more black smoke rising to the air.

He’s worked so hard for the title, he’s been good at his job. To take it away because of one lapse in judgement, it doesn’t feel fair.

Another ball of magic. Another. Another. 

It was a decision his people were backing when it had been made, but now that things turned to south, everyone is trying to wash their hands of it.

They are all blaming him.   

The ocean looks serene, mocking him with its calmness. A forceful push of his hands moves the shoreline back, a wall of water rising up towards the sky. With practised movements of his hands Magnus spins the water around and around, creating a swirling mass of salt water climbing higher and higher. He brings his hands down, the water following his command and sinking back to the ocean with a force that brings a wave back to the shore, suffocating the flames eating away at the greenery.   

A natural disaster, the mundanes are going to say. A storm which they are going to mention in the news in a passing, give it a pretty name like they always do. 

They won’t know that it was caused by a demon, by a being with a name far from beautiful. With a name more fitting. A storm caused by the great destruction, just a taste of what he’s really capable of. What he could be, if he were more like his father.

It’s with that though that Magnus breaks from his anger filled state. His chest is heaving from working himself up both physically and emotionally. There are still sparks at his fingertips, fire at his palms, but those hands are shaking where they are by his sides. 

The urge to cast another spell, to turn the white sand into a molten lava is tempting, the desire to lash out with all his magic so very close to turning into an action.  

He knows not to use it all, he needs to save enough for a portal.

Enough for a trip back home.

As he stumbles through a portal into their living room, it doesn’t take long for Alec to rush to his side from where he had been sitting on the couch reading a book. 

“What happened?” He asks frantically, supporting a part of Magnus’ weight. He’s feeling the drop in adrenaline levels, and the portal seemed to drain the last of his powers. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, but he hopes that the tiredness masks the emotion in his voice. It must, because Alexander doesn't question it.

“What happened?”

“Things got a bit intense with a client.”

A lie. But for now it feels better than telling the truth.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Alec asks with his voice still concerned, but no longer as frantic.

“No,” Magnus says, and it’s the first truth he’s uttered since he entered the room. “I think I just need to rest for a while.”

“Of course,” Alec says, and starts helping Magnus to the direction of the bedroom. Magnus is slow with his movements, his limbs heavy with exhaustion. When he makes it to bed he feels like he could sleep for a century.

He looks at Alec by the bed, his boyfriend fidgeting and looking hesitant. Magnus lifts his eyebrows in question, urging him to speak his mind.

“Can I lay with you?” Comes the unsure question, and Magnus hates the hesitant tone in Alec’s voice.

“Please,” Magnus replies, and Alec doesn’t hesitate getting into bed with him, scooting close but not touching, unsure of what Magnus needs.

Magnus moves the remaining inches, laying his head on Alec’s chest and breathing deeply when Alec’s arm wraps around him. Magnus’ arm goes to rest across Alec’s stomach, his fingers holding the worn cotton of his t-shirt. A soft, calming sensation where there had been fire just moments before.

Because this is what he needs now. He’s done destroying and tearing himself apart, and for now he needs someone to hold him, make him feel like he’s being put back together.

It’s an illusion and Magnus knows it, he would need to let Alec know how broken he feels and what was the thing that broke him for him to be able to help mend the pieces back where they belong.

But at the moment it feels too much like breaking himself further, so Magnus lets the moment pass and his eyes close, soft sound of heartbeats lulling him to sleep.

One day, he thinks. Just not today.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you thought!
> 
> [You can find me from tumblr too!](https://www.sugarandspace.tumblr.com)


End file.
